


Man in Black

by fredbassett



Series: Stephen/Ryan series [82]
Category: Primeval
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:49:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/pseuds/fredbassett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephen gets a rare lie-in, as well as some additional benefits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Man in Black

Propped up on pillows in a nice warm, comfortable bed with a mug of tea on the bedside table, watching his lover get ready for work, wasn’t a bad way to start the day, Stephen reflected. It was made even better by the fact that it was his day off and he could have a rare lie-in, with an early morning run off the agenda for once due to the teeming rain. He liked exercise, but he preferred it not to be a combination of running and getting soaking wet unless he could possibly help it.

Ryan came out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over short hair darkened by the water, and smiled at him. The soldier was wholly unselfconscious about his nakedness and it wasn’t hard to see why. He was in excellent shape; strong but not overly muscled, just bloody perfect as far as Stephen was concerned. Water drops glistened on his chest and on his thighs, tempting Stephen to remove them with his tongue. Ryan swiped the towel over his body and then tossed it accurately into the laundry basket.

Monday meant washing day, and Stephen intended to do nothing more than enjoy a day of domesticity for a change, but before that part of the day started, he fully intended to enjoy the sight of Ryan getting ready to go to work.

Stephen watched as his boyfriend pulled a pair of black briefs from a drawer and slid them up over indecently long legs and perfectly sculpted thighs. A figure-hugging teeshirt came next, moulding itself to Ryan’s chest, doing nothing to disguise the taut plane of a stomach that Stephen had spent some considerable time nuzzling the previous night. The black combat trousers that followed were less flattering, designed for practicality rather than looks, but Ryan still managed to make them look good. A pair of thick black socks and well-worn but still highly polished boots completed that half of the day’s ensemble.

Next up were various personal protection items, as the stock lists in the ARC euphemistically called them. There were times when Stephen felt his lover carried almost as many knives as Blade and even more guns than the equally weapons-obsessed Finn. Ryan strapped a long, thin blade in a black sheath to his right arm, the knife nestling against the suntanned skin of his forearm and added a lower leg sheath to his right calf. A Fairbairn-Sykes fighting knife was fastened to his left thigh, the straps sinfully tight, but even that rig was nowhere near as distracting as the one that would hold Ryan’s Glock 17. The Special Forces captain methodically tightened each Velcro strap, casting an amused glance in Stephen’s direction.

“You’re doing this deliberately, aren’t you?” Stephen said, pushing the duvet down to expose his rapidly-hardening cock.

“I’m getting dressed,” Ryan said, the innocent expression in his grey eyes wholly at odd with the way his fingers brushed over his own crotch before he reached for the black jacket and shrugged it onto his shoulders.

“In the interests of strict accuracy, you’re getting dressed in a provocative manner,” Stephen pointed out, before giving in to the urge to run his fingers down his cock.

Ryan’s jacket, tactical vest and the webbing straps that would hold a wide variety of weapons hung in its usual place over the back of one of the bedroom chairs. As the weather was so shitty, Ryan pulled his jacket on and then the tactical vest was next up on the catwalk of the soldier’s body. An in-built cross-draw holster for another Glock adorned his chest and four pouches that would hold spare magazines nestled nearby. None of the anomaly response teams carried backpacks, preferring to rely instead on the multitudinous pouches in their tac vests. A backpack was cumbersome and in a life or death situation against something from the past – or the future – they’d learned the hard way that there was no time to rummage in a pack for what you needed. Essential items had to be carried in pouches and pockets, easy to reach and always at hand. Stephen knew Ryan was carrying a host of small, but essential items needed for survival situations, including a tightly packed survival blanket, a small but powerful flashlight, a laser flare, several disposable lighters, cable ties, a plastic bottle of industrial strength insect repellent probably developed somewhere in the bowels of Porton Down, a large Leatherman multi-tool, water-purification tablets and probably even a cuddly toy stowed somewhere out of sight for all Stephen knew. And of course the ubiquitous bottle of gun oil.

The Special Forces units seconded to the anomaly project took their job seriously and had progressed a long way from Ryan’s first mission beyond an anomaly with Nick, wearing heavy gloves and carrying his own backpack as well as Nick’s. The soldiers now carried enough weaponry to start – and end – a minor war, and were forever adding new items to the long list of fun things to carry, and quite a few of those items were capable of making a very loud bang.

Ryan finished the routine check of his pockets to ensure nothing had been left out, then took his two Glocks out of the gun-safe in the wardrobe, laying them on the floor while he opened a second safe and brought out the magazines and spares. Although both weapons had been cleaned the previous night, Ryan still racked the slides to check the action before slotting the clips into place, nestling the guns into their holsters, and filling the various ammunition pouches on his vest. He relocked the safes and straightened up, looking down at Stephen and not bothering to hide the amusement on his face.

“You’ve not been getting dressed, you’ve been reverse stripping,” Stephen pointed out as his cock twitched against his stomach, pre-come beading at the tip.

Ryan grinned. “You’ve watched me get dressed more often than I’ve had the misfortune to watch Finn picking his nose.”

“So romance is clearly not dead. I still get a hard-on watching you gear-up.”

“That must get awkward when we’re getting ready for a shout.”

Stephen sighed. “It does. It’s bloody hard to run with a stiff cock. It’s your fault for having a body to die for and looking good in black.”

“And nothing at all to do with your gun kink?”

“It’s the bloody thigh straps that get me every time, not the guns,” Stephen admitted. He reached out and ran his fingers along the edge of one of black webbing. “I swear you tighten them up this far just to get me hard.”

“You were hard by the time I’d got my pants on.”

Stephen grinned provocatively. “What are my chances of getting them off again?”

Ryan glanced at the clock. “Nonexistent. I’ve got a meeting with Lester and Stringer at 9am and the traffic’s been bloody murder this week.” He turned to go, but suddenly checked the movement and dropped gracefully to his knees at the side of the bed.

A moment later a warm mouth engulfed Stephen’s cock and Ryan started fingering his balls. Stephen gasped and bucked up into Ryan’s mouth. His lover knew exactly what to do to get him off quickly and shamelessly employed every trick in his not inconsiderable armoury, running his tongue lightly over Stephen’s slit, alternately licking and sucking.

Stephen ran his hands through Ryan’s short hair and did his best to keep still as he was very expertly sucked off. The combination of Ryan’s teasing fingers and the action of his mouth and tongue sent Stephen quickly to a place where rational thought took a back seat to pleasure as he revelled in the sensations dancing along every nerve ending in his body.

As he drew closer to the edge, Ryan backed off slightly and looked up at him, before running his tongue slowly across Stephen’s slit and then pressing hard against it. Stephen gasped as his climax hit him with the force of a heavy-calibre round. Ryan sucked him into his mouth again and took everything Stephen had to offer.

Stephen slumped bonelessly against the pillows as the small after-shocks of orgasm ran through his body. Ryan pressed a gentle kiss to his now-softening cock and another to Stephen’s lips. Stephen opened his mouth, allowing the kiss to deepen, tasting himself on Ryan’s tongue.

“Will that keep you going until tonight?” Ryan asked, standing up and looking down at him, amusement and affection clearly warring for precedence in his grey eyes.

Stephen stared up at him, smiling. “I expect so, soldier boy.” He stared at the all too obvious bulge at the front of Ryan’s combat trousers, accentuated by the tight thigh straps on each leg. “But you’d better let me deal with that before you go. I’ll be quick, honestly.”

Ryan looked at the clock again and sighed. “You’d better be,” he said as he lowered his hand to his zip.

Stephen sat up and slung his legs over the side of the bed, fisting one hand in the straps on Ryan’s right thigh and using the other to free his lover’s hard cock from the confines of his trousers and underwear.

This wasn’t going to take long. And it had certainly been a very nice start to the day.


End file.
